Total Surrender (28 page)

“Chance,” Piper breathed. “How bad?”

“Through and through on the shoulder. I’ll live,” the kid said. “Go find the cord.”

Jory barely heard their interchange, so absolute was his fury. “You made my brothers’ lives hell, and you made us kill.” With a flick of his wrist, he threw the monster from
his childhood over the desk and across the room. The commander impacted a wall of weapons and guns rained down to the floor. “You made us into something we didn’t need to be.” And he’d hurt Piper… badly. Without missing a stride, Jory flew across the room and picked the bastard up.

Blood dotted the commander’s mouth. Jory punched him in the nose, and more red sprayed. “Matt wants to kill you, but I’m not gonna let him live with that.”

“Neither am I.” With a bloody smile, the commander dodged forward.

Jory pivoted to the side a second too late. A sharp pain lanced through his abdomen. He glanced down as red bloomed over his right side where a knife handle protruded.

The commander shoved harder. “Die, you worthless creation.”

Jory’s vision grayed. Digging deep, he covered the commander’s hand with his and squeezed.

The commander’s dark eyes widened, and blood flowed freely from his broken nose.

Using all the strength he owned, using all the training Matt had drummed into him, Jory pulled the knife from his side.

“No.” The commander tried to reclaim his hand.

“Yes.” All the rioting in Jory stopped and went silent. He grabbed the commander’s neck and shoved him against the wall. Lifting the blade still dripping with his blood, he used every ounce of strength he had left to plunge it up into the commander’s neck in a kill strike.

The soldier gurgled, his hands clawing at the bloody handle.

“I told you it’d be me.” Jory leaned in until they were eye to eye. The life slowly faded from the commander’s body. “For my brothers.”

P
IPER UPENDED THE
last of the cigar boxes, and her heart leapt. A cord, tightly wound, lay in the corner. She grabbed it, her hand shaking. She’d found it.

Turning, she hurried out of the hidden room in time to see her father’s eyes flutter shut. Jory dropped him to the ground and staggered back.

Chance stood to the side, his face white, his mouth open. “You killed him.” Wonder filled the kid’s voice as if he couldn’t quite believe anybody could kill the commander. “He’s dead. I mean, he’s really dead.” Hope now pushed away the wonder.

Jory turned around, blood flowing from his side.

Piper’s feet remained rooted, and she held up the cord. “I found it.” Her gaze went to her obviously dead father.
What? How?

She blinked several times, and cold burst through her chest. Her vision fuzzed, and she swayed, disoriented. Dead. He was really dead.

Chance jumped for her and grabbed the cord. “How much time?”

She shook herself out of shock to glance at her watch. Death and freaking out would have to wait. “One minute. Please. One minute.”

Chance shoved one end of the cord into the commander’s computer tower. “We don’t have time to get back to the infirmary.”

Jory ripped off his shirt and smashed the cotton against
his bleeding rib cage. “Piper, you hack.” He reached down and picked up one of the fallen knives. “Chance? You cut.”

Chance backed away, his hands shaking. “I don’t know how—”

“I’ll cut.” Piper took the knife. “Lie down.” Leaning over, she quickly started the computer program and found the right sequence and algorithms from the server. “When that turns over, let me know.” Then she shoved everything but the monitor off the commander’s desk. They didn’t have time. They didn’t have enough time. Oh man. They needed time.

Jory knelt on the wooden floor and leaned over the desk, his chest against the oak. He turned his head to the side. “I’m sorry about your father.”

She shoved hair from her face. “Not now.”

“This may be all we have.” A lock of black hair fell over his forehead, and she brushed it back. Her hand shook, and she tried to calm herself before she cut into him. She could do this. Hell, she had to.

“Hold really still.” She eyed the scar next to his C4 vertebra. Pressing her lips together, she made a fast incision at one end, then another at the other end. Blood welled up. She squinted to try to find the opening, but too much blood was in the way. She couldn’t touch the chip or it’d explode. Blood rushed through her ears, and her palms began to sweat. “I can’t see.”

Chance leaned over and spit onto one end. The spit pushed blood out of the way and revealed the opening in the chip. “There you go.” His fingers flew over the keyboard.

Jory cut him a look. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Chance’s voice hitched, and his chest trembled. “Just don’t die.”

Piper grasped the free end of the cord. It had two long silver prongs with an intricate meshing between them. There was no way she would’ve been able to redesign it in time.
Using her free hand, she cut along both sides of the kill chip, careful not to touch or disturb the metal.

“Piper?” Jory asked, his cheek on the desk, his gaze on her. “I am sorry.”

She nodded, her heart thundering. “I know, and you’re forgiven. Truth be told, I like you a lot better than I ever liked him.” The words were true, and the least she could do was reassure him. Just in case.

At the acceptance, Jory’s body relaxed. He nodded. “Whatever happens, I love you.”

She paused, so much emotion ripping through her, she hurt. Bad. “I love you, too.”

“Kissy later.” Chance hissed. “The chip detonates in twenty seconds.”

Holding her breath, Piper paused. If she hit the device wrong, she’d kill him.

“You can do it,” Chance whispered, hope and fear in his voice.

She had to do it. “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.” The mantra ran through her head as Piper inserted the prongs into the end of the chip. She froze in place, trying not to twitch. Nothing. Good.

Chance let out a shuddered breath. “You’re connected?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her gaze on the chip. Her muscles tensed, and her stomach cramped. “Tell me when.”

“Wait… okay…” Chance typed in the commands. “We have a connection. Typing in the code, and… Now!”

Please, God.
Piper grabbed the chip in the center and tugged. It popped and agony rippled along her fingers. The blades shot out, and she yelped, throwing the thing across the room. Matt was just entering, and he threw out a hand, sending the device spinning into the wall. The blades took hold, leaving the chip fully embedded. It smoked and hissed.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Jory stilled. “We done?”

Matt had him off the desk and in a bear hug within seconds. “You did it. We didn’t think there’d be time, so we hurried to you. After running into some trouble.”

Oh God. Jory was saved. Piper wiped sweat off her forehead with her good hand, her chest swelling. Her vision disappeared, and it took a second to realize she was crying. Then she fell back against the file cabinet. Her knees shook.

Jory turned and grabbed her hand. “I heard the chip detonate. You cut?”

“No. Burned.” She glanced down at the bubbling skin alight with pain. “Well worth the result.” Holy fuck it hurt.

Chance grinned, his eyes weary. “You’re awesome.”

“No. You’re awesome.” She grinned back, enjoying the moment.

“You’re all awesome,” Laney said from the doorway, her arms laden down with bandages. “What are the injuries?” Then she gasped and rushed Chance. “Oh, honey. You got shot.”

Chance glanced down at his bloody shoulder. “Just a flesh wound.”

“Oh.” Laney helped him remove his shirt and quickly pressed a bandage on both sides. “I’ll stitch you up in the air. For now, keep pressure on it.” Leaning over, she frowned at Piper’s burns. “I have salve at home.” Then she ducked and slowly removed Jory’s wadded-up shirt. “Eesh. Okay.” Handing him a bandage, she bit her lip. “Keep pressure. You need stitches first.”

“Once we’re in the air,” Matt said. “Nate and Shane have cleared a path. Let’s go.”

Piper nodded and tried to push the pain somewhere else while running into the hidden room and taking the laptop off the top shelf. There had to be a reason it was hidden. Biting her lip, she then shoved the picture of the Dean boys as kids under her arm. She hurried back out.

Tucking her head under Jory’s arm for his uninjured side, she tried to help him toward the door. He instantly released her and shoved her behind him, pulling out his gun. “Stay behind me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, hero boy.”

His blood-riddled back straightened. “Just do it. We’re not to safety yet.”

For answer, she held out a hand for a bandage from Laney and then slapped it over the hole in his back. “Your special abilities don’t give you more blood, do they?”

“I don’t think so.” He stalked toward the destroyed hallway. “But then again, I’m not sure. Maybe.”

She shook her head. An explosion sounded from outside. They were still fighting? Trying to keep her limbs moving, she drew her gun. Just in case.

Chance jogged next to her, scanning the hallway. Even injured, he was on full alert. Must be a Dean characteristic.

They ran through the hallways, twisting and turning, leaving trails of dotted blood. Finally, Matt cleared the way outside where Shane and Nate waited in the helicopter with the blades already rotating.

So close. So damn close.

Piper followed Jory and kept an eye on Chance. Both moved well, but blood marred the ground as they ran.

Finally, they reached the helicopter, and Jory all but tossed her inside. He turned for Chance.

Chance backed away. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Jory paused, having no doubt the kid would pull his gun if necessary, considering his hand remained on his holstered weapon. “Chance?”

“Sorry.” Chance’s jaw firmed, but his lips trembled. “I really am.”

Two soldiers dressed in black ran around a burning Humvee, and Jory shot one in the neck while Matt pegged the
other. One got off a shot, and it ricocheted off the helicopter, smashing the one remaining window in the main compound.

“Chance? Get in the copter.” Jory could probably get to him before he drew.

Chance sighed, looking young and desolate. “I can’t leave him. Can’t leave Greg.” He pointed to a graveside on the other side of a barbed wire fence. “Not alone.”

Jory’s head jerked up.
Never alone.
Glancing around, he spotted the construction zone. He didn’t believe in much, but family he understood. Loyalty and going to the mat for a brother, no matter what. His chest settled. The fight continued around them. They’d chosen their employees with care, and so far, they were doing a stand-up job. For now, he had family to worry about. “You’re right. Let’s get him.”

Chance coughed. His shoulders drew back. “Wh-What?”

“Let’s get him.” Jory pressed the bandage against his bleeding gut and eyed Matt. “Provide cover and then pick us up over there.”

Matt’s head jerked as he looked out at the gravesite. Then he glanced at Jory and finally at Chance. Deep and gray, emotion burned in his eyes. “Go.”

Jory touched Chance’s arm. “Run.”

Hope flared across Chance’s bruised face. “Yeah.” He turned and ducked low with Jory on his heels.

They zigged and zagged toward an excavator. Automatic fire peppered the ground before them. Damn it. Jory glanced around. “Sniper on the far roof.” Ducking, he dropped to one knee, focused, and shot.

The bullet impacted the sniper’s throat, and his gun clattered to the ground a second before the body.

Jory jumped back up and followed Chance. They climbed the excavator, and Jory worked the levers. His gut had gone numb, which probably wasn’t good. In addition, his right arm wasn’t working all that well. “Duck, kid.”

More bullets sprayed across metal. The sounds of gunfire echoed behind them as Matt provided cover. Jory drove the tractor around burning vehicles and scarred earth, holding his breath as he reached the fence. He had to shoot twice before they made it to the uneven field. The massive tires threw up mud and dirt clumps.

They reached the fence, and Chance tightened next to him. Jory drew up the boom and continued on with full power.

The fence drew taut and then let go with a loud PING. The sound of freedom had a beautiful ring to it.

They continued on, two wounded guys with the stars shining down on them, gunfire echoing behind them. Chance gurgled in pure joy, and Jory grinned.

“Fuck them,” Chance bellowed.

Jory nodded. “Yeah. Fuck them.” He paused and made sure his innards were still inside. “You okay, Chance?”

“Not really. You?”

“No, but I will be. So will you.” The promise echoed like a vow, and that worked for Jory. “I promise.”

“So long as Greg is with us, I’m good. I promised him.”

Under the light of a full moon, they reached the grave, and both exhaled. The rounded dirt showed the path, and it was small. Too damn small for a grave site—kids shouldn’t die. Jory worked the controls and slowly churned up earth. By the time he’d cleared the small casket, Matt was dropping the helicopter three yards away.

Jory jumped down. “We need to lift him out. If I use the tractor, the coffin will split.”

“I’ll pull out the coffin.” Chance kept a hand on his bleeding shoulder.

Matt, Shane, and Nate all leaped from the helicopter and strode toward the open grave site, determination on their hard faces.

“Greg belongs to all of us now, Chance.” Jory turned to help Chance down. “Let’s get our brother.”

Even wounded, even in pain, the brothers lifted the casket out with reverence and carefully placed it down the center of their transport. It rode the helicopter home in the middle of the aisle, where they all could touch and find comfort.

Laney worked tirelessly in crappy conditions to stitch them up, finally sitting back with a loud sigh. “This is why I became a bartender.”

The second they reached Montana airspace, something in Jory relaxed. Completely. He had to talk to Piper and make sure she really was all right with his killing the commander, and he should probably debrief his brothers. But first, they all had something important to do.

Matt dropped down on the north side of the property near an outcropping of majestic pine trees just as dawn began to emerge from the east. “Here?” he asked.

“Here.” Jory jumped out first, holding back a wince when his stitches pulled.

“I thought so.” Matt stopped the engines. “I called Josie and the gang to bring shovels.” He hadn’t finished speaking when two SUVs drew up. Kyle and Wade jumped out and ran right for Chance.

Wade stopped cold. “You got Greg?”

“Yeah. We got Greg.” Chance dropped an arm around Kyle’s shoulder. “How about there?” He pointed up at a blue spruce about a hundred years old.

Kyle’s eyes filled. “Yeah. That’s good.”

Grandpop Jim carried over shovels, his face somber. “We’re ready to dig.”

Jory reached for a shovel while Chance did the same. Within fifteen minutes, with almost everyone digging, they were able to bury the coffin.

“We’ll get a nice marker,” Matt said, his voice hoarse.

Jory leaned against a tree. “Chance? You want to say anything?”

Chance nodded and stared down at the fresh earth covering his brother. “Greg was a good guy. Smart with computers, crappy with knives, but good with guns. He was kinder than anybody else I’ve ever met.” Tears clogged his voice, and he cleared his throat. “More than anything, Greg was a good brother. The best.”

“The best,” Wade said, tears on his face.

Kyle wiped his eyes. “We miss you, Greg.”

They stood there in the early evening, a family made by blood, circumstance, and hope. One by one, they gathered up to head to the ranch for dinner.

Soon, only Chance and Jory remained.

Chance hadn’t moved. Even now, his head down, his gaze remained on the earth. “You don’t have to stay with me.”

Jory pushed off from the tree so they stood side by side. “Remember our mantra?”